Ghost in the Factory
by estrellaSMC
Summary: An expolsion in the factory kills Willy Wonka. Now his ghost is haunting the factory and Charlie...or is it? As is often the case when Willy Wonka is concerned, things aren't what they seem.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. It belongs to Roald Dahl. This is based off of the 2005 version of the film, so you could also say it belongs to the writers of that film, as well.**

* * *

Eighteen year old Charlie Bucket was walking home from school. The weather was warming up, and Charlie was beginning to get a case of spring fever. That, plus the fact that he was a senior and had only one more month until he graduated from high school, made it very hard for him to concentrate on his work...either school work or chocolatiering work. He chuckled to himself as he remembered how Willy had caught him daydreaming just a few days ago. He didn't think he'd ever forget seeing a purple gloved hand wave in front of his face and Willy's voice say, "Hoo hoo! Anybody in there?" (**A/N: I had a teacher do that to me and my classmates once. It is pretty funny, and it does bring you out of a daydream if you happen to be daydreaming.**) Several times that day, that same memory had pulled him out of his daydreams with a chuckle.

Charlie reached the corner of the street and began to turn it and head towards home when suddenly there came a loud explosion. The ground shook. Charlie threw himself to the ground, protecting his head. Windows of the nearby buildings and cars, and the light fixtures in the street lamps shattered.

When everything settled down again, Charlie peeked out from under his arm. Other people slowly began to stand up and check themselves for injuries. Charlie stood up, too, and checked himself all over. Surprisingly, he was unhurt.

"Huh," he said to himself, "I wonder what that was all about?" With a shrug he continued walking.

He rounded the corner and..._Holy Buckets!_ There was a huge, gaping hole in the wall of the factory building! He ran towards the factory, running even faster than the day he'd brought the Golden Ticket home. He reached the side gate and began digging frantically in his pockets for his key.

Now, as everyone knows, when you are in a hurry to find something, that something is always very hard to find. So it was with Charlie. He searched both his left and right pockets with no luck. Then he emptied out his backpack. Still, no key. Finally, he remembered a small pocket on the side of his backpack that was meant to hold a cell phone and checked in there. His fingers closed about the small piece of metal and he gave a sigh of relief.

Unfortunately, made clumsy by his worry about his family and Willy, Charlie's fingers dropped the key onto the pavement as soon as he'd pulled his hand out of the pocket. Muttering a swear word that he probably first heard from Grandpa George, Charlie snatched the key from the ground (almost dropping it a second time), stood up, and inserted the key into the gate.

After hassling with it for a good five minutes (Why did things have to choose the worst possible times to rebel?), Charlie got the gate open. By this time, he could see his family outside the factory doors. He jogged over to them. "What happened?" he asked.

"We don't know," Mrs. Bucket answered with a shrug. "Your father had just arrived home and then suddenly alarms went off. Some oompa-loompas came and told us we had to get out."

"What about Willy?" Charlie asked, looking around for his mentor and friend. "Where is he?"

"He hasn't come out yet," Mr. Bucket answered.

"Besides," added Mrs. Bucket, "He's probably helping to figure out what happened. He'll be out to give the 'all clear' soon, I should think." Charlie headed for the doors. "No, Charlie, you can't go in."

"But Willy needs me," Charlie protested.

"The oompa-loompas said that if you arrived home before we were clear to go back inside that we were to keep you out, too," Mrs. Bucket replied.

"Willy probably told them to say that," Mr. Bucket said.

A few minutes later, an oompa-loompa came out the door, walked over to the Buckets, and tugged on Charlie's pants to get his attention. Charlie looked down. _All clear_, the tiny man signed.

"We can go back in now," Charlie told his family.

They all headed into the factory. Just as Charlie was going to follow his family into the Chocolate Room, the oompa-loompa tugged his pants to get his attention again. When Charlie looked at him, the tiny man signed _There's something we need to tell you_. Charlie nodded and followed the oompa-loompa off to one side where two others waited. Charlie saw that one carried Willy's top hat and the other one Willy's cane. _You might want to sit down_, the oompa-loompa signed. Charlie sat on the floor. _Willy was..._the oompa-loompa bowed his head for a moment before looking up and continuing, _killed in the explosion._

"No!" Charlie exclaimed.

_All we found were his hat and cane, which he had obviously laid to one side before doing whatever-it-was that he did in there_, the oompa-loompa continued. _His body, his clothes, everything else was utterly destroyed by the blast._ The other two oompa-loompas handed over the two objects.

Charlie accepted the hat and cane. He looked at the three tiny workers. "Do you think you could get all the oompa-loompas assembled in the Chocolate Room in a few hours? There's something I want to do. To…to say goodbye."

The oompa-loompas nodded and left. Charlie stood up, clutching the hat and cane, and went into the Chocolate Room to share the news with his parents.


	2. Chapter 2

**I don't own the song Brothers Under the Sun. It is the property of Bryan Adams and is found on the Spirit, stallion of the Cimarron soundtrack.**

* * *

Charlie stood in the Chocolate Room, surrounded by his family and the oompa-loompas. They were there to say a last goodbye.

Charlie had had the oompa-loompas make him a Chocolatier outfit that he planned to wear for the first time when they had all come home after he'd graduated. He'd wanted to surprise Willy. Now, he never would. He wore it now. It was modeled after Willy's outfit. The jacket was a forest green in color. The shirt was mint green. The vest was white. Charlie's pants and shoes, like Willy's were black. Charlie didn't wear a hat, and he was bare handed. Neither did he carry a cane, except for Willy's at the moment.

He turned to face the crowd. "Thank you for coming on such short notice," he said. "I wanted to arrange something to say a last goodbye to Willy. He was my mentor. And my friend. I remembered one time in the Inventing Room hearing a song on the radio and thinking that it described Willy and me perfectly. I decided to sing it for Willy. It's called 'Brothers under the sun'." Charlie nodded to the musical oompa-loompas and they struck up the melody. Charlie's voice came in at the right moment with only the hint of a quaver.

"I had a dream - of the wide open prairie  
I had a dream - of the pale morning sky  
I had a dream - that we flew on golden wings  
And we were the same - just the same - you and I

"Follow your heart - little child of the west wind  
Follow the voice - that's calling you home  
Follow your dreams - but always, remember me  
I am your brother - under the sun

"We are like birds of a feather  
We are two hearts joined together  
We will be forever as one  
My brother under the sun

"Wherever you hear - the wind in the canyon  
Wherever you see - the buffalo run  
Wherever you go - I'll be there beside you  
'Cause you are my brother - my brother under the sun

"We are like birds of a feather  
We are two hearts joined together  
We will be forever as one  
My brother under the sun"

Charlie came forwards slowly, carrying Willy's cane and top hat. He set the cane point down in the chocolate soil and pushed it in. Then he took Willy's top hat and set it on top of the cane.

"Under the Sun  
Under the Sun  
My Brother Under the Sun"

As the last haunting notes of the song died away, many of the spectators had tears in their eyes, if not running down their faces. Charlie, himself, was looking a little damp eyed as he turned to face them.

Before he could speak, though, there came a new voice. "Wonderful song, Charlie! I never knew you were such a great singer." Everybody turned towards the sound of the voice.

There, hatless and caneless, stood Willy Wonka.

"Aaaaaaaaahhh!" Charlie screamed. "A ghost!" Then he took off running for the door at the other end. Everyone else, who'd had the same reaction, followed him.

* * *

**A/N: So Willy Wonka's a ghost and haunting the factory now, huh? Hmmm...**


	3. Chapter 3

"Oooooooooohh!" a ghostly moan echoed around the Inventing Room, causing Charlie to jump and drop a beaker. It landed on the floor and shattered, splattering its contents everywhere. The oompa-loompas nearby immediately started cleaning up the mess.

"Chaaaaaaaaaaarlieeeeeeeee," Charlie shuddered. Willy Wonka's ghost had been haunting the factory ever since a few weeks ago. It scared him senseless every time it happened. He'd found out in those weeks that he was terrified of ghosts. Not the kids who dressed up as ghosts on Halloween. They were okay. It was the kind of ghost that was haunting the factory that scared him. The real kind.

Charlie looked around, and then immediately wished he hadn't. For there, next to the Everlasting Gobstopper machine, hovered Willy's ghost.

Charlie could never quite get over the shock of seeing Willy, even his ghost, look disheveled. He had always thought that, even in death, Willy Wonka would be nothing but normally snazzily dressed. But that wasn't the case. Its clothes were burned and full of holes. It was hatless and didn't have a cane. Its long brown hair was now scorched black. In some places, it had been burned away, leaving large bald patches. Its face was burned, which made its eyes stand out creepily. For the first time, Charlie was able to see Willy's hands for all that was left of the gloves was a melted on ring of purple latex around his wrists with a bit that was burned beyond that and flared out around the bottom of each hand. The rest had burned away, leaving his hands as burned as his face.

"Chaaaaaaaaaaarlieeeeeeeee," The ghost moaned again, and, except that its feet floated about three inches from the floor, appeared to walk towards him.

Charlie backed up, away from the horrifying apparition, and fell over a chair.

"You are getting clumsy, Chaaaaaaaaaaarlieeeeeeeee," the ghost intoned. It smiled.

The smile was one of the worst things about Willy's ghost. For, instead of the perfect, white teeth Willy'd had in life, the teeth of the ghost were mostly missing. Only a few remained; a mocking reminder of former perfection. The gums were red, swollen, and bleeding. When the ghost spoke or smiled, blood would pour out.

"Get away from me!" Charlie exclaimed, scooting backwards, before getting to his feet and running out of the Inventing Room.

Slamming the door, Charlie leaned against it, panting. Not that he expected this to stop Willy's ghost. Everybody knew that ghosts could pass through walls. But not being in the same room as the phantom gave Charlie some time to plan his escape, if he could. "I don't know how much longer I can stand to be haunted like this," he said. "If it keeps up too much longer, I'll have to leave the factory. Promise or no promise."

Meanwhile, if Charlie had been able to look back in the Inventing Room, an interesting sight would have met his eyes.

Willy's ghost turned to the side. "Ptooey!" it said. Many pieces of black plastic came shooting out and bounced along the floor of the Inventing Room. Taking a wipe out of his pocket, he rubbed it along his hands, removing the makeup that made his hands look burned. Taking out another, he rubbed it over his face. These he let fall on the floor. Reaching into its mouth, he pulled out two long, red strips. One came from his top row of teeth and the other from the bottom. These had been attached to his gums and had been filled with fake blood. He set these on the nearby table. Removing the plastic glove cuffs, he set them near the strips. Lastly, he pulled off the wig, letting his chin length brown hair fall free and setting it near the glove cuffs. Burping suddenly, he dropped the three inches he'd been hovering in the air and landed on the floor. He giggled suddenly. "That is so much fun," he said. Some oompa-loompas, who knew about Willy's prank, laughed. With that, he walked around the room; making sure things were still in working order. Old habits die hard, as they say.

While he was standing near the door, he heard Charlie's voice. "I don't know how much longer I can stand to be haunted like this," he said. "If it keeps up too much longer, I'll have to leave the factory. Promise or no promise."

Willy covered his mouth with his hand in shock for a moment before dropping it. His face took on an expression similar to the one he wore after Charlie had refused to move into the factory without his family. He looked down at the oompa-loompas. "I had no idea I was scaring Charlie _that_ badly," he said. "I thought it would be like some people feel about riding a roller coaster, or going through a haunted house, you know? Being scared, but in a fun way. I didn't mean to scare him that badly." He bowed his head, clasped his hands behind his back, and walked dejectedly back to the table. He sat down and cupped his head in his hands, setting his elbows on the table. "I feel terrible." He suddenly swiped the pieces of his costume that were on the table onto the floor. "No more! No more haunting!" He sighed. "I'll tell Charlie," he decided. "Then I'll leave this place. Charlie won't ever see me again. He won't want to, after what I did."


	4. Chapter 4

That evening, Willy slipped into his bedroom. He carried the pieces of his costume he'd taken off. Once inside, he dumped them in the trash, along with the containers that held his ghostly makeup. Removing his tattered clothing, he threw them out, too. Then he pulled out an outfit from his closet and got dressed. Slipping his feet into his boots, he zipped them closed. He pulled down a hat box, removed the top hat, and set it on his head. Picking up his W pin (he'd not been wearing it during his haunting), he put it on. Finally, he put on a new pair of purple latex gloves and pulled a cane out of the stand near the door. Standing in front of the mirror, he ran a hand over the plum red velvet of his coat. "Well, I look the way I normally did before the explosion," he said. With that, he sat down to wait. He had decided it would be best to approach Charlie alone, which meant waiting until he was in bed.

At the right time, Willy slipped out of his room and walked down the hall to Charlie's. He'd given him the room when Charlie had entered high school. He was glad now that he had done that because now it meant the two of them would be uninterrupted. He opened the door and slipped inside, shutting and locking it behind him just in case Charlie tried to escape while still under the impression that he was a ghost. It might slow him down a bit. Walking over to the bed, Willy laid a hand on Charlie's shoulder and gently shook him. "Charlie, Charlie, wake up!"

Charlie's eyes blinked open. Looking around the room, they focused on Willy. Screaming, he leaped up and out of bed, dashing for the door.

Willy flew after him. "Charlie! Stop!" he called. Charlie didn't stop. In a desperate move, he grabbed the younger man by the shoulders and spun him around to face him. "It's me!" he exclaimed.

Charlie just stood there, staring at Willy, stunned. He looked and sounded just like he always had. The cane and hat were back, as was the W pin (he just now realized that it had been missing during the haunting). Charlie could feel Willy's hands on his shoulders. It was this contact that convinced him. It was the touch of the hands of a human being. "You're alive," he whispered, awestruck.

Willy grinned, relieved at having gotten through to him. "Yeah," he said, dropping his hands. _No need to keep contact any longer than necessary_, he figured.

"But...how..." Charlie tried to ask, stunned.

Willy looked over at a pair of armchairs in the corner. "It's a long story," he said. "Shall we go sit?" Charlie nodded and the two of them got settled. "The truth of the matter is that I never died in the first place."

"But the explosion," Charlie protested. "The oompa-loompas said that there was no way you could have survived."

"What they didn't know was when I built this place I built a special compartment in the wall of the room," Willy explained. "It was made to withstand an explosion. I knew that the things I had in there could explode like that, though I never expected it to blow a hole in the factory wall. When I found out about that, I was very glad I'd had the compartment installed on the same wall as the door. There was enough warning for me to get in there, so I was safe."

"How did the oompa-loompas not see you?" Charlie asked.

"It took a few minutes for the oompa-loompas to reach the room after the explosion," Willy said. "I left the room in those minutes."

"Why didn't you take your hat and cane?" Charlie asked.

"Too much smoke," Willy replied, "I didn't see them and I'd forgotten I'd taken them off."

Then came the question Willy had been dreading, "Why did you pretend to be a ghost?"

Willy bowed his head. "I didn't mean to scare you," he said. "Well, I mean, I did, but not that badly, and not in that way. I thought it would be scary, but a fun kind of scary."

"You mean like going to a haunted house or something?" Charlie asked.

"Yeah, exactly," Willy said.

"What made you realize you needed to stop?" Charlie asked.

"I overheard you this afternoon," Willy said. "I didn't mean to eavesdrop. I was just near the door and overheard you." He looked away. "I'm sorry. For everything."

He felt a touch on his hand and looked back. Charlie was smiling. "It's okay," he said.

"So we're still friends?" Willy asked.

"Brothers under the sun," Charlie replied with a smile.

Willy grinned at the reference to the song Charlie had sung. "I'd like to learn that song," he said.

"I'll teach it to you," Charlie said. Then he yawned. "But not tonight," he added.

"Okay," Willy said with a laugh. He got up. "See you in the morning."

"Yep," Charlie said, climbing back into bed. "Do you think you'll come to breakfast with me and my family? I'll explain to them about the whole 'ghost' thing."

"Okay," Willy said. He opened the door, slipped out, poked his head back in, and said, "Goodnight."

"Night" came the response.

Willy closed the door and then said to himself. "Guess I don't have to leave, after all."


	5. Chapter 5

The next morning, Mrs. Bucket looked out the front window of her house and stared in shock.

"What is it, dear?" Mr. Bucket asked.

"Come here," Mrs. Bucket said.

Mr. Bucket got to his feet and looked out the window. "Holy Buckets," he said.

There, striding across the swudge grass, by Charlie's side, was Willy Wonka. The two of them were singing together, their voices floating into the cottage.

"We are like birds of a feather  
We are two hearts joined together  
We will be forever as one  
My brother under the sun"

Mr. Bucket went to the door and opened it. He and Mrs. Bucket stood in the doorway. Charlie and Willy broke off their song and looked up.

"Mom, Dad," Charlie said.

"Mrs. Bucket, Mr. Bucket," Willy said at the same time.

Mr. Bucket looked at the two of them in silence for a moment before he spoke, "What is going on here?"

"It's a long story," Charlie said.

"Please tell us," Mrs. Bucket said, sitting down on the steps. Mr. Bucket sat next to her.

"You see, Mom, Dad, there wasn't really a ghost," Charlie said. "Willy was never really killed in the blast."

"But...how..." Mrs. Bucket said. "I mean...I couldn't be happier...but...I find this rather...er...difficult."

"I got to safety when I first realized the explosion was going to happen," Willy said, speaking for the first time.

"Then what about all the times you told us about the ghost?" Mr. Bucket said.

"Willy was playing a prank on me," Charlie said, looking over at his friend. "I found out last night."

"And I promise I'll never do it again," Willy said. He bowed his head, "I'm sorry."

Mrs. Bucket's lip twitched, and then she smiled before coming down off the steps. "It's okay," she said, laying a hand on Willy's shoulder. Willy looked up and smiled back. "Come on," Mrs. Bucket added. "Breakfast is waiting!"

* * *

The story was told to the grandparents during the meal, and at the end even Grandpa George had forgiven Willy for his prank. Everything was back to normal.

Afterwards, Charlie smiled at his friend. "You know, you 'came back' at just the right time," he said.

"Why's that?" Willy asked.

"Because today's my graduation day," Charlie said. "You did say that you were planning on coming."

"That's _right_! Willy said. "I even still have the ticket you gave me...somewhere..." he began digging around in his pockets until he pulled out the small rectangular sheet of paper. "Here it is!"

* * *

Charlie slowly walked up the ramp behind the stage along with his classmates. He could hear names being called as students went forward to receive their diplomas. (**A/N: Is this how high school graduations work? I don't know since I was homeschooled and never had a high school graduation. All I have to model this chapter after is my college graduation**)

Finally, he turned the corner and was facing the audience. He saw movement and turned to look.

There was Willy Wonka. He was standing up at his seat, waving his arms like a pair of windshield wipers on a car in a rainstorm, and grinning. (**A/N: Two of my guests did this at my college graduation, and it seemed to me like something Willy would do**)

Charlie grinned and waved back before turning his attention to the student ahead of him, who was called forward at that moment.

Charlie stood there, clinging to the railing. It was almost his turn. He let go and took a deep breath as the principal was handed the next diploma.

"Charles Joseph Bucket."

Charlie walked the few feet between himself and the principal. Shaking the principal's hand, he accepted the leather case.

"Congratulations, Charlie," the principal said.

"Thank you, sir," Charlie replied. Then he turned and walked off the stage as the next high school graduate was called forward.

* * *

"Boo!"

Charlie jumped and gave a startled yelp, dropping his diploma and the program. He spun around. "Willy!" he exclaimed. "You almost made me jump right out of my robe!" With that, he bent down to pick up the things he'd dropped.

"Your mom and dad and I have been trying to find ya," Willy said. "It's a mad house in here. I was about to go up there," he pointed to the balcony above them with his cane, "to see if I could see ya when I found ya here by the door." He leaned on his cane. "good idea, huh?'

"You might not have been able to see me anyway," Charlie said, "Since I have my mortarboard still on."

"Yeah," Willy said, "Except I don't think anybody else had a big, sparkly, Wonka 'W' sticker on their hat."

Charlie smiled, pleased that Willy had noticed it. "True," he said.

"Come on," Willy said. "We agreed to meet back at the refreshments after a bit." With that, he grabbed the sleeve of Charlie's robe. "I don't want to lose you again," he commented before threading his way through the crowd. Charlie struggled to keep up.

"Ah, Willy, there you are," Mr. Bucket said. His lip twitched when he spotted Charlie being hauled along by the sleeve of his robe, "And I see you found Charlie."

"Yeah," Charlie said, pulling free of Willy's grasp, "He found me all right."

Mrs. Bucket came over and hugged him. Then she pulled away, "I want to get a picture of you in your cap and gown," she said. Whipping out her camera, she took a picture.

"Hey!" Willy said suddenly, "I have an idea." He then removed his top hat and set it on top of Charlie's mortarboard. It slid off, but Charlie caught it before it hit the floor. "Hmmmm..." Willy said.

Charlie suddenly grinned and removed his mortarboard, replacing it with Willy's hat. He struck a pose. "How do I look?" he asked.

"Great!" Willy replied. Then he took Charlie's mortarboard and put it on his own head. "What do you think?" he asked. He pretended to march around, singing as he did, "daa daa da-DA-da da da DA da da da da da da da da da da da da da da da-da!"

Charlie laughed at Willy's antics. Then he handed the program and diploma to his parents. Unzipping his robe, he slid it off and then draped it about Willy's shoulders. "You look silly with the mortarboard but no robe," Charlie said.

Somehow Willy managed to wriggle out of his coat without having the robe fall off. He handed it over to Charlie. "No sillier than you look in a top hat but no tails," he retorted.

Charlie accepted the garment and shrugged it on, carefully buttoning it. "There," he said.

Willy leaned over to zip the robe closed. After hassling with it for a few minutes, he managed to get it closed. When he went to stand up, the tassel on Charlie's mortarboard got in his mouth (He'd had his mouth open and his tongue poking out in concentration from trying to get the zipper closed) He blew the tassel away. "This gosh-darned tassel is driving me nuts!" he said, swatting at it. After swatting at it for a few more minutes, he suddenly left it alone and stood next to Charlie. "Hey, Mrs. Bucket," he said, "Why don't you take our picture?"

Mrs. Bucket chuckled. "Sure," she said, pulling out her camera.

Just before the camera flashed, Charlie put his arm around his mentor's shoulders. Willy looked over at him in surprise before putting his own arm around Charlie's.

_Under the sun  
__Under the sun  
__My brother under the sun_


End file.
